Miss Julia Stands Her Ground

by Ann B. Ross

  As Helen went on with her agenda, Hazel Marie sat back, visibly relieved to have her duty over and done with. Soon, Helen turned the meeting over to our Bible leader, who of course was Emma Sue. Unfortunately for her, but eye opening for me, the lesson was on Lydia, the seller of purple in the city of Thyatira. Wherever that was. Apparently, Lydia opened her heart to the Lord and her home to Paul and Luke, and brought her whole household into the community of faith, which seemed to me to indicate that women could be spiritual leaders as well as men. But, not surprisingly, Emma Sue didn’t see it that way. According to her, the account of Lydia was a lesson to us of women’s role as providers of hospitality.

  “We should be ready, day or night,” Emma Sue said, “to open our homes to all those who preach the Gospel. That’s why I keep my pantry and freezer filled and fresh sheets on the guest room bed.”

  Well, they Lord, I sighed to myself, if I’d wanted housekeeping tips, I’d have stayed home and watched Martha Stewart.

  Finally, though, the circle meeting was over, and we all stood to gather purses and slip into light coats against the nippy December weather. Emma Sue pushed through the crowd around us and grabbed Hazel Marie’s arm.

  “Hazel Marie,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you so much for that beautiful prayer. It was so moving, and it expressed exactly what was in my heart.”

  I beamed in pride, but Emma Sue had to spoil it by going on. “Your deep spirituality came through, and I want to ask you to forgive me for not realizing what a lovely Christian you’ve become.”

  Hazel Marie’s face turned red at the rush of compliments on her praying skills, and she mumbled her thanks to Emma Sue. Then, pulling away, she said she’d meet me outside.

  As I thanked our hostess and walked out toward Hazel Marie, LuAnne Conover accosted me on the front walk.

  “Julia, wait up,” she said, puffing a little as she hurried toward us. “Hazel Marie, you gave an inspiring report about our orphan, and I’m going to get her two gifts. Now, why don’t you run on and heat up the car for Julia while I talk to her a minute?”

  Hazel Marie lifted her eyebrows in response to this dismissal, but she smiled and walked on. LuAnne was not the most tactful person in the world, but we were fairly used to her bossy ways.

  “What is it, LuAnne?” I asked, pulling my coat close against a sudden gust of wind. “It’s too cold to stand out here long.”

  “Well, I just wanted to tell you, now that you’ve seen the petition, that you might not be able to go by it.” She pulled me aside as some of the other circle members edged past us on their way to the cars they’d parked in Marlene’s drive. We smiled and waved and responded to farewells. LuAnne waited for them to get out of earshot, while I wondered whether or not to admit I’d not seen the signatures on the petition.

  “Now, Julia,” she said, leaning in close, “I know you know that I signed the thing, but I have to tell you that I’m not going to vote for you. I think you deserve to know that before you make your decision.”

  “Well, why in the world did you sign it?”

  “Because I was put on the spot and because everybody else was signing it, and I didn’t want to be left out. But here’s the thing, Julia, I am your friend, your best friend, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea just because my name’s on a petition.”

  “So you’re my friend, but you won’t support me, is that right?” I was well acquainted with LuAnne’s ability to come up with some convoluted thinking, but this was stretching friendship to the breaking point. “May I ask why not?”

  “Because I don’t believe in women elders,” she said, nodding her head firmly.

  “You mean you don’t believe women elders exist? Because I know any number of churches that have them, and I can introduce you to a few to prove it.”

  “I know they exist, Julia,” she said, with the patronizing air of one speaking to a nitwit. “But that doesn’t mean I believe they ought to. They cause nothing but trouble, and you know it. Why, all you have to do is sit on any committee of women, and all they do is fuss and get mad and talk about each other.”

  “My goodness, LuAnne, you’re talking like women are a separate species, calling them they. It’s we, I mean us, that you’re talking about.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m talking about women who step outside themselves and try to run things. That’s a different class altogether, and one we’re told not to be a part of. So, you’d do well to consider carefully all the ramifications before you decide to run.” She frowned and lowered her voice even more. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

  “No, there’s Pastor Ledbetter and Emma Sue who would agree with you. And I’m sure I don’t know how many others. But, LuAnne, I’ll tell you this, if I decide to run—and that’s a big if—I would expect everyone who signed that petition to vote for me, and that means you, too.”

  “Julia, I just told you . . .”

  “I don’t care what you just told me. I expect you to stand by your promise, and your signature on that petition is the promise of a vote. You can’t say one thing and do another, LuAnne, it doesn’t work that way.”

  She drew herself up and sniffed. “Well, I’m just telling you the way it is. And you know me, Julia, I am honest to the core and I stand on my convictions. I would think you’d want to know how I really feel. And think of this: Nobody knows how anybody else votes, so for all you know, I may vote for you, and I may not. Besides, I know that underneath it all you don’t really want to be an elder, do you?”

  “If I decide to run, LuAnne, I would expect to win. And if I have to do it without you, then I will. Now, Hazel Marie’s waiting, so I have to go. Thank you for sharing this with me.” And I took myself off, leaving her feeling self-righteously honest, if a trifle told off by her best friend.

  Chapter 9

  Hazel Marie chattered all the way home, beside herself with excitement over my possible run for the session. I mostly sat and listened, holding on to the armrest, as I usually did when she drove. Now that I had her alone in the car, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Uncle Vern. Hazel Marie lived in the present more than anybody I’d ever known. She viewed the world with eager expectancy, which was a marvel to me, since the world had not treated her all that well. Until I came into her life, that is. Or rather, until she came into mine, and I kept her in it.

  I hated that she had to be told that something was threatening not only her well-being, but Little Lloyd’s, too. And that kept my tongue still and my mouth closed. That, and being too close to home to get it all said and dealt with.

  “I know the pastor won’t like it,” Hazel Marie said, glancing at me, then quickly back at the street. “But that’s never stopped you before. I think it’s just what the church needs. We could use a little shaking up. Why, Miss Julia, you’ll be representing half the congregation.”

  “More than half, Hazel Marie.”

  “That’s what I mean. Anyway, I’d love to be a fly on the wall at the session meetings when you’re there. I bet those old men won’t know what to do with you.” She laughed with delight.

  “I haven’t said I’d do it.”

  “Oh, but I think you should. It’s perfectly all right now, and you know our church is way behind the times. A lot of churches have had women elders for ever so long, and nobody thinks anything about them now.”

  “I know, Hazel Marie, change has been in the air for years, but the Bible hasn’t changed. And, you have to admit, that Paul was pretty specific about who should be deacons and elders and bishops, and it certainly wasn’t women.”

  “Well, but in those days women didn’t go to school or get out in the world. It’s different now, and I think if Paul was living now, he’d be singing a different tune.”

  She turned into our driveway, came to a stop, and put the car into park. “Anyway,” she went on, “whatever I can do to help, just let me know.”

  I opened the car door, but didn’t make a move to g
et out. “Hazel Marie, don’t get too worked up over this, because I’m inclined not to do it. For one thing, I have a lot on my mind right now and don’t have time to fiddle with it. And for another, I’m not convinced that we should go against the Bible, even if parts of it do seem out-of-date and a little on the unrealistic side. I mean, if we all did what it says, then every last one of us would sell everything we own and take off for the mission field. And if that happened, who’d be here working so they could contribute to the mission fund for our support? So, I know we have to take a few things with a grain of salt.” I started to climb out, but turned back to her. “My problem is, I don’t know where to salt and where not to.”

  As we walked into the house, I felt more and more apprehensive about telling Hazel Marie what I had to tell her. I didn’t know how she’d take it, and I wanted to have plenty of time and space for her to get it out of her system if she blew her top. As she might well do. I knew I would in her place.

  “Don’t forget, Hazel Marie,” I said reluctantly, as we entered the house. “I want to talk with you right after lunch. I’ll come up to your room where we won’t be interrupted.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. We can discuss how to get the word out for your campaign, and I want us to decide about Christmas, too. You know, kinda go over who’s going to get what for who. It’s only a few weeks away, and I’m already getting excited.”

  I didn’t say anything, just nodded. But it seemed to me that we ought to get closer to Christmas before we started worrying about gifts. Of course, nobody else did, for Christmas decorations had been up in the stores since Halloween. And about the same time, those Budweiser horse commercials had started airing, making Hazel Marie teary-eyed one minute and ready for shopping the next.

  As it was nearing lunchtime, Hazel Marie and I went to the kitchen, where we were both brought up short. Little Lloyd was sitting at the table, all hunched over, nibbling on a piece of dry toast.

  “Lloyd!” Hazel Marie cried, running over to him. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in school?”

  “I’m sick, Mama.” And he did look peaked, all white and washed-out looking.

  Lillian walked over to the table. “That school called while y’all was at yo’ circle meetin’, an’ I went an’ picked him up. The teacher say he th’owed up in the class.”

  Little Lloyd nodded his head. “Right in the middle of social studies.”

  “Has he got a fever?” I put my hand on his forehead, which felt warm, but as my hand was cold, I couldn’t be sure. “This child ought to be in bed.”

  “Yessum,” Lillian said. “I was ’bout to take him upstairs, but he say he so empty I thought he need something on his stomick.”

  “Come on, honey,” Hazel Marie said, helping him up from the chair. “Let’s get you to bed. Miss Julia, do you think I ought to call the doctor?”

  “No, Mama,” the boy said before I could answer. “I don’t need the doctor. I feel better now, and besides, I wasn’t the only one to get sick. Barry Peterson threw up, too, and Saralynn Hargrove thought she would, but she didn’t. And her daddy’s the doctor, and she didn’t call him.”

  “Why don’t you wait a little while, Hazel Marie,” I said. “Put him to bed and take his temperature, and let’s see if this toast stays down. He needs some fluids, too. It sounds like something’s going around at school, and it may just be a twenty-four-hour bug.”

  “Come on, sweetie,” Hazel Marie said, her arm around the boy’s shoulders as she walked him out of the kitchen. “I’ll tuck you in and sit with you. Maybe you can sleep a little while.”

  “Yessum,” he said, sounding weak and pitiful as they left the kitchen.

  Well, there went my serious conversation with Hazel Marie. But first things first, and the state of Little Lloyd’s alimentary system certainly came first.

  I don’t know how the child got any rest, for if I wasn’t going in to check on him, Lillian was bringing up trays of soup and whatever else she thought he needed. And Hazel Marie sat by his bed all afternoon, dozing in a chair when he napped.

  An hour or so before dinner, I tiptoed up the stairs again to see how he was doing. As soon as I looked in, Hazel Marie came out into the hall, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “I think he’s a little better now. But he still has a fever, and he hasn’t eaten anything. I forgot to tell you, Miss Julia, but I was supposed to go over to Tina Doland’s house tonight. I called her and told her I couldn’t come, but Tina said she really wants me to be there. She has something special planned.”

  I pursed my mouth, thinking of Tina Doland, who was an active member of First Baptist, and was forever coming up with something for other people to do. “Go, if you want to. I’ll watch Little Lloyd. Just remember that she probably wants to rope you into something that her church is pushing.”

  “I know.” Hazel Marie nodded. “But she’s asked a lot of people we know, and she said to tell you that you’re invited, too. I didn’t think you’d want to go, though.”

  “No, I don’t. But, Hazel Marie, I thought you were making time for us to have a talk.”

  “Well, I thought so, too, but you know how Tina is. She just said that if I couldn’t leave Lloyd, they’d bring the party here. I didn’t know how to get out of it, so do you mind? She’ll bring the snacks and everything, and we don’t have to do a thing but get Sam out of the house, because men aren’t invited.” Hazel Marie gave me a worried look, then went on. “You might enjoy it, Miss Julia. If you’re in the right frame of mind.”

  “What kind of frame of mind?”

  Hazel Marie squinched up her face while her eyes moved in every direction but mine. “Uh, well, it’s kind of a new kind of get-together. Like, well, a Tupperware party. You’ve been to those, haven’t you?”

  “Once,” I said. “Which was enough. Frankly, I’ve never thought it appropriate to invite people to your home and expect them to buy something so you’ll get something free.”

  “Oh, we won’t get anything free. Tina might, because she’s the official hostess, but we won’t. I’m sorry, Miss Julia. I should’ve asked you first, but I think I’m stuck now. I just didn’t know what to tell her.”

  “This is your home, too, and you don’t need to ask me about every little thing. Besides, I know Tina can be a steamroller when she wants to be. But I’m going to excuse myself and let you handle it. I’ll sit up here with Little Lloyd, and you can enjoy the party.” I started to turn away, disappointed that my talk with her was being deferred yet again.

  At least Little Lloyd was on the mend, so that was one less thing to worry about.

  I reached the head of the stairs and stopped. “Hazel Marie, I know you’ll feel obligated to buy something tonight, but you ought to check with Lillian first. She may not want any more plastic bowls.”

  “Oh, it’s not that kind of party. I just used that as an example.”

  “In that case, I might slip down and join you for a while. What kind of party is it?”

  Hazel Marie’s eyes darted around. “Um, well, they call it, well, it’s called a passion party.” She took in a deep breath, and gave me an earnest look. “But it’ll be in real good taste.”

  “A Passion party?” I frowned, wondering what Mel Gibson and his cohorts had dreamed up now. “Why, Hazel Marie, we’ve barely gotten past Thanksgiving, and Tina’s celebrating Easter? That’s the most sacred time of the year, and I just don’t think we ought to commercialize that.”

  Hazel Marie stared at me for a minute, then she doubled over, laughing. Glancing behind to see if she’d wakened Little Lloyd, she held herself in check and walked over to me, her eyes dancing with mischief.

  Leaning close, she whispered, “It’s not that kind of passion, Miss Julia. It’s the other kind.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you do, too,” she said, giving me a light tap on the arm. “And if you don’t, I’m going to get J.D. to e
xplain a few things to Sam.”

  Chapter 10

  I dismissed Hazel Marie’s indelicate remark, knowing how she enjoyed teasing me. She was getting as bad as Mr. Pickens, who lived to shock and embarrass me. Nonetheless, I felt it incumbent upon me to be in attendance at the party. Especially since Tina Doland had commandeered my living room to push her wares, whatever they were.

  To tell the truth, Tina had never been one of my favorite people. At one time she had run with a fast and loose crowd, and her reputation had suffered for it. Her husband, Tommy Doland, worked for a large construction company of some kind, and he was forever winning trips to Las Vegas and Atlantic City, which just goes to show. Somewhere along the line, though, both of them had reverted to their earlier religious upbringing, and they’d done it with a vengeance.

  Now, you wouldn’t find a more active couple in any church in town. Whatever program or committee or slogan or activity Dr. James Dobson or their Baptist preacher came up with, Tommy and Tina were right there in the forefront. I didn’t especially like to be around them, if you want to know the truth, especially Tina, since I was on her call list for all her requests for donations. And I wasn’t even a member of her church.

  Besides, when you’re proclaiming the benefits of a simple and godly family life, your mouth shouldn’t be caked with lip liner, lipstick, and lip gloss. And if you’re forever witnessing to the joys of submission to your husband, you shouldn’t be wearing dresses too short and your pants too tight. Of course, Hazel Marie wore hers that way, but that was different. Hazel Marie didn’t flaunt herself before other people’s husbands the way Tina did.

  Anyway, the word was out that whatever had changed Tina, it hadn’t completely taken hold. But who am I to question anyone’s spiritual condition? Maybe she’d had another conversion experience. Baptists are known for that, you know. And if that was true, I would give her the benefit of the doubt. I’d keep my opinions to myself until she proved otherwise. I don’t believe in talking about people, anyway.